


Dig Your Thumbs In

by silkstocking



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2018-2019 NHL Season, Age Difference, Background/Ambiguous Kari Lehtonen/Antti Niemi, Blow Jobs, M/M, Montreal Canadiens, Overstimulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 20:10:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16793887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkstocking/pseuds/silkstocking
Summary: Most guys just get a Ferrari for their midlife crisis.





	Dig Your Thumbs In

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is entirely the fault of [this article](https://montrealgazette.com/sports/hockey/nhl/hockey-inside-out/stu-cowan-life-must-be-wonderful-for-canadiens-jesperi-kotkaniemi), in which we learned of the bet between Jesperi and Antti. Also, [this](https://finnishhockeyplayers.tumblr.com/post/180206359347).

Antti sat listening to the silence of his apartment for several long minutes, balancing a beer in one hand and his phone in the other, before he got up the courage to dial the person he thought would give him the least useless advice.

"Why are you calling me? You hate the phone," Kari said, instead of hello.

Kari's quiet amusement seemed to settle something in Antti's chest. "Shut up," he said. "I'm not incapable. I just avoid calling you. You like small talk more than anyone I know."

Kari laughed. "Are you calling just to pick a fight? Because I can tell you, retirement has given me plenty of opportunity to think up some good chirps."

"Are you, then?" Antti said, momentarily distracted. "Retired?"

There was a pause. "Well..." Kari said, "I haven't announced anything. But I'm not in a hurry to sign a contract."

"Brave."

"Do you think?" Kari asked mildly.

Antti wanted to say that the thought of life after hockey was pretty terrifying, but also that he hadn't thought he'd be the one of them to still be playing at 35. As discretion was the better part of valor, he decided to keep his mouth shut. Kari knew it, anyway. They understood each other that way. That was the reason Antti had called him in the first place.

"So I assume there was something specific you wanted," Kari said, when the silence had dragged out a little longer than was really comfortable.

"I... yes," Antti said. He put the beer down on the coffee table, then picked it back up again.

"Well, spit it out then," Kari said. He still sounded amused. Antti could hear his kids in the background, laughing and yelling.

"I think the rookie was coming on to me."

Kari burst out laughing, which Antti personally thought was uncalled for, and then calmed down enough to say, "Wait, are you talking about _Kotkaniemi_?"

"Obviously—"

"Oh my god, Antti, he's an infant."

"He's eighteen," Antti said, a touch defensively, which started Kari laughing again.

Antti hung up the phone.

Kari called him back. “I changed my mind,” he said, when Antti answered after an appropriately long delay. “You're clearly of a similar mental age.”

Antti groaned and let his head thunk back against the sofa. “Kärppä, what do I do about a rookie with a crush on me?”

“I don't know. Give him advice? Let him score on you in practice. Don't have sex with him. That's only going to end in tears.”

“I'm not going to hurt him.”

“I meant your tears. Why did you think he was coming on to you?”

“He has this way of… smiling at me. I know that sounds foolish. But he came to my room last night. In the middle of the night, shirtless. He said he couldn't sleep.”

“What did you do?”

“I let him fall asleep to some shitty movie and then I slept in the chair. My neck is killing me.”

“Well, maybe he's just homesick,” Kari said. “You probably remind him of his dad.”

 _Ugh_. Maybe Antti would take Jesperi to visit Kari when they played in Dallas, see how he liked it. “You are a horrible excuse for a friend. Really. The worst.”

“You called me," Kari said. Antti could imagine his grin.

“Now I'm hanging up again,” Antti said, in lieu of ‘I miss you’.

“Don't have sex with—” Kari got as far as saying before Antti cut him off.

*

The trouble was that not having sex with the rookie was trickier when the rookie in question kept turning up half-naked in your hotel room.

“Don't you have a bed of your own?” Antti grumbled, stepping aside to let Jesperi in.

“Arsi has a girl in the room,” Jesperi announced, making himself at home on Antti’s bed. “Do you have Netflix?”

"You should tell Lehkonen to take his girls back to their own place. Don't let him push you around."

"I don't mind. He's like my big brother," Jesperi said. He was smiling that blinding smile of his. "It's nice to have so many. It's nice you’re here as well, to take care of us Finnish guys."

 _Oh god._ "Shall we watch something?" Antti said, resolving never to let Kari know about that statement.

"I like American comedies but I don't always get the jokes."

"Me neither," Antti said, and opened his laptop.

The bed grew more crowded as the show went on, or perhaps that was only how it felt to Antti. He was hyper aware of Jesperi’s bare skin where it pressed against his. Every tiny movement seemed to bring them closer together, until Jesperi was practically sitting in Antti's lap. When Antti turned his head, Jesperi leaned up and brushed their lips together.

It was barely a kiss, but it was enough to send Antti's thoughts tumbling away like a torrent of white water.

"What are you doing?" he said, and cringed as the hopeful smile on Jesperi's face slid off.

"Sorry, I thought—sorry." Jesperi scrambled to his feet.

"Jepu—wait," Antti said. "It's not that I don't like you, but I don't think this can really be what you want. I'm twice your age."

"You don't know what I want," Jesperi snapped. He slammed the door behind him on his way out.

*

Jesperi left him alone for the next couple of weeks, which Antti had confusing, mixed feelings about. He was obviously happy to have his bed to himself once more, but he'd become used to having Jesperi around. His clear sense of wonder at every new thing about the league, and Montreal, and North America in general had been weirdly refreshing, at a time where most of Antti’s friends were winding down their careers or heading to Europe. His parents had even started making comments beginning with ’when you come home’ when he’d been back in Finland in the summer. But Antti’s life was here now, and he was holding on to the house in Dallas for a reason.

In the locker room one morning, he offered Jesperi a tentative smile and got a sunny beam in return. After that, it was like nothing had ever changed between them.

“Hey, Nemo,” Jesperi said, in English, leaning all over Antti’s stall, “I've been working on new shootout moves. Want to see?”

“You really think you get past me?” Antti said, keeping his face perfectly straight.

From nearby, Gally let out a drawn-out _oooh_. “KK’s challenging Nemo to a shootout,” he said, in a carrying voice. “Bold move, buddy.”

“What's the stake, boys?” Jordie said, wandering over with the whiteboard pen in his hand.

“Lunch,” Jesperi said promptly, “if I score three. Winner picks, loser pays.”

“Make it two,” Antti said. “He should get a chance, at least.”

The guys laughed, but Jesperi didn't seem fazed by the trash talk. He just held his hand out to Antti and said, “Deal.”

His hand was warm against Antti’s palm, and surprisingly big. A man’s hand. Antti gripped it and shook. Jesperi grinned as if he were getting away with something and went back to his own stall.

“Kids these days,” Jordie said, shaking his head, before writing the bet up on the board.

It wasn't until Jesperi was coming in for the first shot that Antti realised how he'd been played.

That hesitation cost him the first goal, and he spent the rest of practice watching out for Jesperi coming in for a second try. He left it until the very end, when everyone else was already heading off the ice. Antti snatched the puck into his glove, and winked at Jesperi as he swung back around. Jesperi’s answering smile definitely suggested he wasn't too cut up about losing.

*

Antti picked a restaurant that was expensive, because Jesperi had brought it on himself, but not the most expensive he could think of, because he was still on an ELC, after all.

When Jesperi excused himself to the bathroom, Antti sent Kari a picture of the menu and his empty chair, captioning it _Kotkaniemi lost our shootout bet_.

 _Most guys just get a Ferrari for their midlife crisis_ , Kari replied.

 _You would know_ , Antti shot back, childishly, and felt satisfied until Kari sent him a selfie sitting on the hood of one of his cars and giving the middle finger. Retirement looked good on him; his face was softer and he was smiling. He looked happy. Antti saved the picture to his camera roll before he could think better of it, and slipped the phone back into his pocket just as Jesperi returned.

“I've never been to a place like this before,” he said. “A guy in the toilet gave me a towel.”

Antti laughed. “Very fancy."

"I know!" Jesperi said. His hair flopped across one eye and he shook it back. Antti had a sudden urge to lean across the table and brush it aside for him, which he squashed down mercilessly and turned his attention to his menu instead.

Antti had, by his own admission, never been good at small talk, but Jesperi kept up a running commentary of seemingly everything that ever popped into his head. Antti was content to listen to it all. Halfway through a not-very-thrilling story about something Armia had done on the last roadie, Jesperi's sock-clad foot found its way over to Antti’s side of the table, hooking around Antti's ankle. Antti looked at him, but Jesperi only raised his eyebrow without breaking the flow of his chatter at all. Hell, Gally had been right; the kid was bold. Thank fuck there was a long tablecloth in this place. As their meal progressed, the foot rose higher up Antti's leg, tracing his inseam. Antti was ready when it reached his thigh. He caught Jesperi's foot in his hand, digging his thumb into the meat of it until Jesperi wriggled away, looking pleased with himself. He behaved again until the waiter offered them a dessert menu, from which he ordered some kind of chocolate and whipped cream monstrosity and proceeded to eat it as messily as possible. Presumably it was meant to be seductive, but Antti mostly felt fond.

To his credit, Jesperi only grimaced a tiny amount when he saw the bill. Antti clapped him on the shoulder, grinning; a teachable moment for the rookie was always worthwhile.

"Do you want to hang out some more?" Jesperi said on the way out. "I haven't been to your place yet."

This was wildly transparent. Antti should really say no.

"Sure," he said, and wondered about the exact definition of a dirty old man for the duration of the ride over.

*

Jesperi proclaimed a bunch of stuff in Antti's apartment 'cool', despite his apartment being mostly a white box with some nondescript furniture picked out by the decorator.

"Where's your cup ring?" Jesperi asked eventually, having exhausted the dubious delights of Antti's pitifully-stocked fridge and exclaimed over his sad lack of PlayStation. He threw himself down on the couch in a way that made Antti's back twinge just watching it.

"I don't keep it here. It's still at my house in Dallas."

"Oh," Jesperi said. "If I had a cup ring, I'd want to look at it every day."

"Don't you think you'd want to work on the next one as well?"

"True," Jesperi said. He paused for a moment and then said, "I watched those games. When I was a kid. The Ducks didn't make it so I was rooting for you."

"Thanks," Antti told him, dryly.

"Hey, I said I was rooting for you." Jesperi grinned lopsidedly.

"How old were you then? Ten?" Antti said. "Shit."

"I'm not that young."

Antti sighed, finally giving into his impulse to brush Jesperi's hair away from his face. "You really are. Or maybe I'm just that old."

Jesperi leaned into the touch like a contented cat. "Joppe keeps saying you're like my dad, but my dad is way older than you."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" Armia could fuck off, as far as Antti was concerned; he was swiftly heading into veteran territory himself.

"I just mean," Jesperi said, "I don't think of you like my dad."

The mood shifted, like quicksand under Antti's feet. Jesperi's eyes were very big and very brown. He was also very close to Antti all of a sudden, leaning into his space on the couch. Antti knew he should move away, but he felt fixed in place. One of Jesperi's hands was resting on his thigh.

“You like me,” Jesperi said, his mouth touching Antti’s ear.

“Yes,” Antti admitted.

“You think I'm cute.” Jesperi’s hand slid down to brush Antti’s dick.

“Yes.”

“You want to fuck me.”

Antti hesitated. “I mostly prefer it the other way. Getting fucked.”

Jesperi pulled back, his mouth hanging slightly open. There. Antti had finally managed to shock him.

“Really?” Jesperi said.

“Are you disappointed? Was all this just because you thought I'd top you?”

“No,” Jesperi said, flushing. Now he’d been challenged, he’d lost some of the front of shamelessness he’d had back at the restaurant. “I really like you. I just thought…” He gestured helplessly at Antti. “I thought that's what you'd want.”

“What do you want?”

Jesperi bit his lip. “Will you kiss me?”

“Yes,” Antti said again, and closed the gap between them.

Jesperi’s cockiness seemed to unravel further as Antti pressed their lips together. He was hesitant under Antti’s touch, the kiss closed-mouthed and far too chaste. Antti ran his tongue along the seam of Jesperi’s lips until he opened them with a gasp. He tasted of chocolate, and kissed like he wasn't sure what to do with his nose, his teeth, his limbs.

When Antti broke the kiss and pulled back, Jesperi was staring at him with wide eyes and spit-slick lips.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

Antti ran his thumb over Jesperi's lips, tracing the mole above them. “Okay?” he asked. Jesperi responded by climbing into Antti’s lap and kissing him again.

This kiss was surer. Jesperi slipped his tongue into Antti’s mouth, insistently. Antti held onto Jesperi’s back with one hand and tangled the other in his unruly hair, tilting Jesperi’s head to improve the angle. They kissed until Antti was dizzy with it, until they were both flushed and panting and wanting.

Jesperi squirmed in Antti's lap. His skinny jeans were doing little to hide the fact that his dick was rock hard. Antti could feel it pressing against his hip. He tried not to feel too pleased with himself; he remembered being eighteen, or at least the part where his dick had had a mind of its own.

"Can I blow you?" Antti asked.

"Fuck," Jesperi said, "yes, yes."

He shimmied awkwardly out of his jeans. Antti did his best not to laugh, before sliding down to kneel between Jesperi's spread legs. He was tempted to ask if Jesperi had done this before, but he was a little afraid of the answer. Instead, he ran his hands along Jesperi's thighs. Here, like everywhere else, Jesperi was long and lean, rangy, like he'd shot up in height before the rest of his body could catch up. He shivered under Antti’s lightest touch. Antti let his fingers wander further, brushing Jesperi's balls before skimming his knuckles over Jesperi's straining cock.

Jesperi whined at that. "Antti."

Antti took pity on him, and wrapped his lips around the head of Jesperi's cock. Jesperi's hips came up but Antti had both hands on his thighs, holding him in place. He met Jesperi's gaze as he took him a little deeper—and Jesperi yelped and bucked his hips and came.

Antti swallowed more out of instinct than intent, coughing a little in surprise. Jesperi flung an arm over his face with a sound of abject misery.

“Oh no, sorry, sorry. I should have—that was so quick. You're just so hot and it felt so good.”

“Hey, no,” Antti said. “You don't have to be embarrassed.” He ran his hands over Jesperi’s thighs again, lightly with his fingertips to watch him shiver. “Let me try something. Say if you don't like it.”

He lifted Jesperi’s reddened, softening cock in one hand and licked over the head with the flat of his tongue, gathering the last traces of come.

Jesperi twitched violently, a whole body spasm that had Antti fearful of a knee to the face.

“Fuck, oh, fuck,” he groaned. “Antti, god.”

Antti grinned, pushed down with an arm across Jesperi’s thighs to hold him still, and licked him again.

There was an art to this: walking the knife-edge of overstimulation, the balance between too-much and just-enough. Jesperi’s legs were trembling, his hips moving like he wasn't sure if he wanted to pull away from Antti or get closer. Antti lapped at the shaft of Jesperi’s cock, tracing just under the head with his tongue and moving down occasionally to mouth at his balls. Each time, Jesperi shuddered and let out a stream of beautiful, desperate moans. His hands were restless: clenching and unclenching in the fabric of Antti’s shirt, cupping his face, digging into his shoulders.

When the movement of Jesperi’s hips became more urgent, Antti took his cock back into his mouth, letting the head rest teasingly between his lips. It was starting to thicken again now, not really hard but fatter, and twitching with every swipe of Antti’s tongue.

“Please,” Jesperi gasped out. “Please, just. Please.”

Antti hollowed his cheeks and sucked.

There was barely anything to swallow this time, just a trickle of fluid coating Antti’s tongue. But Jesperi thrashed through his orgasm against Antti’s steadying hands, wailing like he was dying. Antti didn't pull off, only mouthed gently at the head of Jesperi’s soft cock through a final, feeble aftershock, until Jesperi at last raised his hands to push him away.

Antti sat back on his heels to admire his handiwork. Jesperi looked like he was struggling to catch his breath, panting as if he'd just been bag skated, skin flushed pink and shining with sweat. He looked beautiful.

Antti pressed a kiss to Jesperi’s knee and said, “Are you okay?”

“I think I died,” Jesperi said. “I think you sucked my life out through my dick. Fuck, Nemo, you're good at that.”

Antti laughed. And maybe preened, just a little. “I've had a lot of time to practice.”

“Do you want me to—” Jesperi cut himself off with a yawn, waving a hand vaguely toward Antti's crotch.

Antti laughed again. “Yes, I can see you're springing into action.”

“I could."

"You don't have to."

"I want to, okay? I've—" Jesperi blushed, suddenly. "I've seen, in the locker room, and I've thought about it. Touching your dick."

That was—Antti's dick was suddenly very, very interested in the proceedings. He pushed himself up off the floor and onto the couch, ignoring the way his joints protested, and pulled Jesperi into a kiss.

“Oh,” Jesperi murmured, wrinkling his nose as he pulled back. “You taste like jizz.”

“Well, what did you expect?” Antti said. He grinned. “Next time I'll save you some.”

“Ew,” Jesperi said, and then, “Is that a thing? I mean, not just in porn?”

“Some people like it.”

“Hmm,” Jesperi said, and kissed Antti again, with too much spit but faultless enthusiasm. Antti pushed back, firmly, guiding Jesperi's tongue until he'd shaped the kiss into something far hotter and more satisfying.

Jesperi ran a hand down Antti's chest and further down, fumbling with the button on Antti's pants until Antti took pity on him and undid it himself.

Maybe Antti wasn't quite old enough to be a dirty old man. He'd have to google it. But having a half-naked eighteen year old he'd just sucked off staring wide-eyed at his dick was definitely giving him that kind of vibe.

"What did you think about? In the locker room?" Antti said, embracing it.

"This," Jesperi said, and wrapped his hand around Antti's dick.

It was, objectively, a pretty poor handjob, but Antti nearly disgraced himself by coming even faster than Jesperi had. The look of focused concentration on Jesperi's face was just so fucking hot.

"Fuck, Jepu," he groaned, biting at the tender skin under Jesperi's ear. "Yeah, that's it. A little firmer."

Once Jesperi found his grip and a decent rhythm, Antti was done for. He kissed Jesperi as he came, and didn't even complain when Jesperi wiped his messy hand all over Antti's stomach.

When they broke apart, Jesperi said, “Did you mean it?”

"What?" Antti said. His brain hadn't quite come back online yet.  
  
"Before," Jesperi said. "You said you'd, um, save me some. Next time. And I just—I had a really good time and I'd like there to be a next time. You said you liked—I could—"

"Fuck me?" Antti said, and the full body shiver Jesperi gave at that was immensely satisfying. "We'll see."

Jesperi hooked his jeans off the floor with a foot and fumbled his phone out of the pocket. "Oh, fuck, I have to go. My mom is texting me."

Well, that was a swift lump of ice directly to Antti's libido.

He ordered Jesperi a car, kissed him on the cheek, and closed the door behind him, leaning heavily against it. He felt dazed and wrung out, like he'd just dropped the gloves against Tie Domi, but in a confusing, extremely enjoyable way.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he fished it out.

 _Did you have a good date?_ Kari's text said.

Antti typed _Ferrari_ into the search bar and sent the first picture to Kari along with five eggplant emojis. It was Habs red, which felt appropriate.

 _Thanks for lunch :)_ he sent to Jesperi, and didn't think too hard about what any of it meant.


End file.
